


You Promised

by defendt0pbunk



Series: We're Gonna Get You Help [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Self Harm, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Tattooed Castiel, Tattooed Dean, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:35:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defendt0pbunk/pseuds/defendt0pbunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean cuts himself to pieces. If he doesn't,  he vomits and doesn't feel right. Castiel soon finds out and Dean takes a little trip. Based on 9:23 (Do You Believe in Miracles?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Promised

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Here's the third part to the series. I had a hard time writing it because it was triggering and i usually don't get triggered by stuff like this. It's weird, whatever. Enjoy! (:

Dean was laying in his room when Castiel burst through his bedroom door. It startled him and he sat up quickly.

"Dean Samuel Winchester!" Castiel shouted. Dean just look at him dumbfounded wondering what he did.

"Castiel James Novak." He responded sarcastically.

Castiel made three huge strides to his bedside. He grabbed Dean's wrist and pushed his sleeve up. Nothing. He pushed his other sleeve up. Nothing.

"Cas, what are yo-"

"Take it off." Castiel said, gesturing to his dark brown henley. Dean stood up and stripped his shirt off in one fluid motion. Castiel examined Dean's front, then turned him around and examined his back.

"Why are you freaking out?" Dean asked him as he turned around to face the dark haired man.

"I was driving the Impala and I found a bloody towel in the glove box." He sighed and sat down on the bed. "Are you cutting again?"

"No. I'm not." He lied. "The cuts I had are scars now. I don't even have anything. What was in that tin case is all I had, and I gave that to you two weeks ago."

Castiel exhaled loudly, he'd been holding his breath since he barged into Dean's room demanding that he strip so he could check him for cuts.

Now that Castiel checks his arms and chest for cuts, his new favorite place to cut is his legs. He wears jeans all the time so Castiel won't be able to see. Thank god he didn't tell Him to drop his pants, he'd be fucked and Castiel would send him straight to the fucking nut house.

That's another thing he forgot to tell Castiel, he's puking constantly and he's had this sudden urge to die, and it's not going away. He feels like he should bring it up and tell him but he doesn't want to disappoint him again. It's on his mind constantly, every time he cooks he hopes the apartment catches fire, he hopes he slips and dies in the shower, every goddamn time he gets in the Impala he thanks whatever god there is that the driver's seatbelt gets jammed a lot so he doesn't even bother putting it on, as much as he loves his Baby he hopes he goes flying head first through her windshield. It could be that he's suicidal and he doesn't want to diagnose himself, but he doesn't want to go to the hospital to find out. He doesn't want to get loaded on crazy pills.

If Dean was being completely honest, he'd tell Castiel that he doesn't want to go to the hospital because he likes being sad. He knows that would sound weird if someone heard him say that out loud. He would just wallow in his sadness because it kept him company.

Dean still has to keep his door open at all times and it sucks for Castiel because Dean's been crying himself to sleep a lot recently and he also noticed that Dean has some weird ass sleeping pattern. He'll sleep for like 11 hours at a time and other times he doesn't wake up for like two or three days. It made him wonder how Dean still had a job. Castiel thought maybe he should bring attention to this.

"Hey, Dean. How was work?" He greeted Dean as he walked in the door.

"Fine, Cas." He waved him on and went to his bedroom.

Castiel looked at him sideways and followed behind him to his room. "Dean?" Dean had already kicked his Vans off, and was currently face down in his pillow.

"What, Cas?" Dean answered with a muffled groan.

Castiel sat on the end of his bed and looked up at him. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Dean sighed, "Well, can it wait a few hours, i'm tired, i've had a long day. I just want to sleep."

That was another thing, ever since that day Cas took his blades and he cried like a little girl. Cas held him until he stopped crying and even after, Dean was real clingy and cuddly toward him. Now Dean can't even look at him for long periods of time with out blushing or feeling butterflies in his gut.

"Why have you been sleeping all these weird hours? He blurted out. He was pretty sure Dean was asleep by now. "I'm worried about you Dean. You haven't really said much to me since I took your blades." He continued.

"I'm tired, man." Dean muttered turning onto his side.

"How can you be tired if you've slept all this time? I mean, a-are you taking something to make you sleep?" He asked concerned.

"No, i'm just- i'm just, tired. Cas, i'm fine." He snapped.

"Dean," Castiel gripped his shoulder a little. "If you need help, just tell me. Do you think that if you come to me for help, that I may think of you as less than a person?" He scoffed and shook his head. "Because that is not the case. At all. Everyone has a rough patch in their life, and yours just happens to be right now."

"I don't need help, Cas." He flipped over on his stomach and sighed situating his pillows. "What I need, is a couple of Z's. Now get out." His eyes closed and he yawned, "Leave the door open since i'm still on Nazi Lockdo-" 

Castiel left the door open and made his way out of dean's room. He thought Sam should know about Dean, but he didn't want to worry him until he had to.

Castiel walked into Reckless Ink Tattoos and waited at the front desk for someone to come help him. Kevin Tran walked out from the back of the shop. "Hey, Castiel," He was unsure of his name, he heard Dean mention him once or twice. "It's Castiel, right?" He asked with a smile as he stepped behind the counter. "What can I do for ya?" 

"I want a new tattoo, I was thinking maybe a chest piece.."

Kevin chuckled, "You sure? A chest piece is pretty damn big.. This tattoo isn't impulvsive, is it?" He asked.

Castiel shook his head and laughed. "No, it's not impulsive. I've wanted it for a while, I just wanted to wait until my other piece was done." He said politely with a smiled.

"Well you got it printed off or on your phone or something?" Kevin asked starting to walk to the back of the shop. He waved Castiel to follow him to the back. "Come on back and we'll get started."

Castiel followed him to the back room and sat in the chair and gave Kevin the outline for his tattoo. 

"Wow, that's bad ass. Give me 15 minutes to draw it up and we'll get started." He said rolling across the tile floor in his chair to get a piece of tracing paper out of the tray.

Kevin Tran was a college dropout. He was in too much debt to finish at the Art Institute of Cincinnati so he came back home to Kansas and now he works at Reckless Ink with Dean trying to pay that shit off.

About two hours into the tattoo Castiel's phone was blowing up, he looked at the screen, four texts and two missed calls. All from Dean.

Kevin was finished with Castiel's tattoo. The tattoo gun stopped and Kevin rolled away from Castiel to get the spray bottle and a paper towel to clean up the smeared ink and blood on Castiel's skin. "Okay. Take a look, man." Kevin said happily. He pushed off the floor and rolled his chair back so Castiel could get up.

He stood in front of the full length mirror and looked at all the detail in his tattoo. It was just the outline and he knew it'd take a few more sessions to finish completely. It was originally supposed to go out to his shoulders but he didn't want the chest piece to clash with his sleeve, so Kevin made it a little smaller so it would fit.

"It's just the outline right now, but with a couple sessions it's going to look awesome as fuck." 

Castiel grinned and looked at it again. "It's fucking sick Kevin, thanks man." 

"I'm glad you like it so far." Kevin said.

Castiel followed dean to the front of the shop. "You paying in full?" Castiel nodded.

"Kevin whistled. "Damn. Okay. Cash or credit?" He asked. Castiel had his credit card ready a few seconds ago.

Kevin cleared his throat as Castiel swiped his card. "Ya know, Cas? I'm not really supposed to tell my customers this 'cause it leaves no business for me but, you could go to Dean and have him finish your piece. He's got his own gun and equipment and its free because you guys are friends, right?"

He smiled and nodded, "Yeah, but something's up with him at the moment." He told Kevin. "But, if I asked him, he would probably do it."

"Okay, just a suggestion, but you wanna pay me for drawing on your skin? Go right ahead, i'm broke as a mother fucker."Kevin said with a laugh.

Castiel chuckled as he started out the door. "Thanks again, dude." 

Castiel arrived home and right as he walked through the door Dean was walking out of bathroom. "You left?" He asked, rubbing his eyes, his voice a bit groggy.

"Yeah." Castiel nodded and tossed the Impala keys on the kitchen counter. "You were asleep this whole time?"

Dean drug himself to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. He leaned against the sink and chugged the water in his cup. He caught his breath and ran his fingers through his bed head. "The whole time? How fucking long was I out?"

"Ah," He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the clock. "About three hours at least." 

"You didn't leave 'cause I told you to get out of my room did you?" He asked quietly, feeling guilty.

"No, I-" 

"Cas, are you okay?" He stammered running to his side in seconds, examining his blood splattered shirt. Dean touched his fingertips to the fabric. "Cas, you're- you're bleeding!" He stammered. "Should I be the one checking you for cuts?" He asked, cornering him against one on the pillars.

"No, Dean! God no!" Castiel pulled his shirt off in a hurry, wincing at the pain as the fabric rubbed against his tender inflamed skin.

Dean put his head in his hands then looked at Castiel with a smirk and chuckled. "You left to get a fucking tattoo?" He chuckled once more. "Not just a-a small tattoo, but a fucking chest piece? Cas, buddy! That's gotta be like, six hundred dollars or more!" 

Castiel let out a laugh and nodded. "Yeah, four for the outline." He mentioned.

Dean immediately looked upset. Castiel could see it written all over his face. "I would've done it for free, Cas. You know I have all of the shit, man. You could've asked me." He suggested.

"Yeah well, I just figured since you've been sick for the past two days you wouldn't feel up to it." Dean shot him a confused look. "But Kevin said that he'd let you finish it.."

"Sick? I haven't been sick." Dean replied.

"Your doors are open." Castiel reminded him. "I can hear everything that goes on in your room, you've been up through the night puking and shit."

"Oh! That's-that's nothing. Don't worry about it. It's at bay for right now." He said.

Dean turned and walked in the livingroom. "You cry at night.." Castiel blurted out. He bit his tongue quickly and realized what he just said, afraid that he might have embarrassed Dean.

Dean sat on the couch at looked across the room at Castiel, "Oh," Dean said, not sounding the least bit surprised. "You heard that, huh?" He looked down not even realizing that Castiel was now right next to him.

"How could I not?" He explained, shaking his head. "You're so loud..." He said quietly.

"Sorry." He whispered. Castiel laid his hand on Dean's knee giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Don't apologize, Dean...what do you cry about? You cry pretty hard during the night."

I miss Lisa, I have feelings for you but i'm afraid to do anything about it because i'm not gay, I have bad thoughts on a daily basis, I want to die but i'm scared, I broke my promise, I have fresh cuts on me right now, there's a box knife buried in my dresser, I sleep a lot because I don't want to deal with shit around me.

"Nothing important, it's stupid." He said glancing at Castiel. 

"No, Dean. Tell me." He encouraged him, rubbing his back. "I already told you i'm not gonna bed mad. I'm trying to help. I want you to get better."

Dean opened and closed his hands into fists. His palms were sweaty so he wiped them on his jeans and took a deep breath. "I-" He paused and shook his head, "I- God! I can't!" He shouted. 

Castiel pulled him into the crook of his arm. "We'll go slow. You can tell me whatever you want, and I won't say anything until you're finished."

Dean sighed and got comfortable against Castiel. He had a felling they were gonna be sitting there for awhile. "I think i'm suicidal.. I'm not sure if the thoughts i'm having are bad enough to do anything about it, which brings me to why I cry every night. I feel like I don't deserve to be here. Like everyone would be better off with out me and Lisa is tied into all this shit somewhere. I want to kill myself but i'm afraid, there's a box knife in my room that you don't know about." Dean was speaking so fast that Castiel could hardly keep up. He noticed that Dean's eyes were glassy and he put a hand on his kee to try to calm him down.

"Dean?" He tried to get his attention. He tried to get Dean to look at him. "Look at me," He said in a soft tone. He lifted Dean's head up, he was holding back tears. He blinked and tears streamed freely down his cheeks. Is there more? Do you want me to let you finish?" He asked.

Dean nodded and cleared his throat, after wiping his eyes he took in a deep breath. "I've still been cutting because if I don't it makes me sick to my stomach for some reason and I start throwing up. When I feel like killing myself, it's worse because once I start, I get kinda crazy and I can't stop. And I don't care about the blood, or the mess I make while doing it, I want to cut so deep that I bleed out and die and I wish-"

"Dean!" Castiel shouted, his voice trembling. He had a death grip on Dean left hand, terrified of what he was going to say next. He was already in tears. He couldn't take anymore. "Calm down. I'm gonna talk now, is that okay?" He asked.

Dean looked at him, giving him the go ahead. Castiel didn't think he could grip dean's hand any tighter because his fingers turning purple. He let go. 

"I'm upset that you broke your promise and i'm upset that you have something in your room to hurt yourself with, but i'll get to that in a minute. I just want to know why you didn't tell me when these suicidal thought started, I could've helped you through it. I told you that I am here for you. And that's why i'm crying. Because to hear you say those things..." His voice shook and more tears fell. "It tears me up inside. To know that you have so much hatred for yourself." He got quiet and wiped his eyes. "Dean, you are a great person. And i'm not saying that just to hear myself talk. I'm saying it because it's true. I may have only known you for a short amount of time but you have so many great qualities to yourself that you fail to realize."

Dean shook his head rapidly in disbelieve, tears falling from his eyes, because the stuff that just came out of Castiel's mouth was probably not even true. He didn't believe a word of it

"No?" Castiel asked. "You are selfless, kind, patient, you can have a nasty temper at times though, you give love to people that don't even deserve it, you help random strangers on the street. Don't get me started on the physical shit, 'cause-" He whistled and raised his brow and glanced up to see if it elected a smile from other the other man. When he noticed it did, he continued. "That hair, those eyes, cheekbones, your freaking jaw-"

Dean was blushing hard now. His face was completely red. "Castiel, the gay is literally seeping out of you, I can see it. "

Castiel shushed him, "I'm not done yet." He chuckled. "Those lips and your fucking freckles- Jesus Christ your freckles are my favorite, Dean." 

"Cas!" Dean cried, blushing so hard his face hurt.

"Stand up." He listened and did as Castiel instructed. "We're not finshed. Drop your pants. I need to see these cuts." Dean wiggled out of his jeans and kept his eyes on the floor, afraid to look at Castiel. He didn't want to be scolded more than he already was.

A small gasp escaped passed Castiel's lips and he pulled Dean back down to the couch. "Dean." He breathed looking at his legs. They were covered in cuts varying from a lot of different sizes. Some were small cuts, some barely grazed the skin, others were medium sized gashes.

"You said you wouldn't be mad..." He whispered, too afraid to speak.

"Dean..." He shook his head unable to construct a full sentence. He was silent for a minute. "Bring me the box knife, please?" He choked, before clearing his throat. Dean left the room and returned shortly with the box knife. 

"Cas?" Dean asked silently.

"Hm?" Castiel looked up at him.

Dean cleared his throat. "This kinda has nothing to do with any of this but it sorta does I guess, i don't know. But, I think I love you." Castiel's head shot up so fast, he thought he felt his neck snap. "But i'm not sure.. Well i'm sure about loving you and my feelings for you and stuff. But i wasn't sure because i'm not gay? I've never even had feelings for another guy before- but you- you do things and I just- I get flustered all the time and I blush a lot and I get butterflies every time you're near me and I- I don't know. I thought you should know..."

Castiel blushed and smiled, "And this is part of?" He asked.

"Why I cry at night.." He muttered.

"Put your pants on, we'll talk in the car." Castiel told him as he stood up.

They got in the car and left the apartment. Why were they turning left? Wait- this is the way to-

"Cas? Where are we going?" He asked before they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

"I'm having you admitted Dean. You need help." He stated.

"Wait!" Dean turned in his seat to look at Castiel. "I poured my fucking heart out to you, and this is what you do? Take me to the fucking hospital? The one place I despise? Un-fucking-believe, Castiel!" He shouted in his face.

"Dean!" He gripped his shoulders "Calm down! You need the kind of help that I can't provide you with. I'm doing this so you will get better. I took in everything you said before we left the house, and when you get back, we'll pick up where we left off."

They got out and walked to the front desk of the ER in silence. The nurse behind the counter looked up from her computer. She brushed her red hair from her face before answerin, "Is there something I can help you with, sir?" She asked Castiel politely.

"I wanted to see about having him admitted to Bert Nash." He said, gesturing to Dean. Dean glared at him as she handed Castiel a form to fill out.

"I can't believe this bullshit." Dean mumbled, taking a seat in the waiting area next to Castiel.

Castiel leaned closer to him, "You wanted help, didn't you? Now you're getting it." He squeezed his hand gently.

He was half way to the ward anyway. He might as well sit back and accepted his fate.

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, how was the season nine finale? Leave comments below! Thanks for reading (:


End file.
